Nobody's son
by Higglebottom
Summary: Harry Potter, living in the muggle world and thought to be an orphan, has his world upside down with a chance encounter. What will he do when he finds the magical world? Alive and good Potters. Prodigy Harry.


**Chapter 1**

'Run Harry, Run'

'Tell me what you would have done?'

'I am so sorry'

'No…'

Paul clutched his head as memories flooded through him. Memories, he had buried deep within, memories he wanted nothing to do with. Yet, they always came back, always to haunt him!

It was a summer afternoon. Fourteen year old Paul was walking in an alley. Strangely, the street was ghost ridden. The grey clouds had loomed over with a sudden chillness around. There was a taste of grief, of anguish and a despair in the air. Even the grey pavement he stood upon seemed to resonate and gave a slight tremor. _Is this an earthquake?_

And then he saw it.

Two black hooded creatures, circling around each other, hovering above and floating in the sky.

 _Am I hallucinating? Or is this an alien invasion?_

'Run Harry, Run'

'I am so sorry'

 _Aggh.._

He again clutched his head tight, trying to yank out the memories from his skull. _What is_ _happening?_ He have had nightmares, but never had he felt like this. The coldness has now increased around him. A shiver ran up his spine. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed those creatures flying and gently gliding towards him,

 _Are they the one causing this?_

It definitely looked like it. _But how? Is it some superpower they possess like…like he did?_ He paled at the thought. He could no longer stand. His knees gave up and rested on the grey pavement. He wanted to run, but all the energy have been drained out from him, reliving the hell he thought had finished.

Death is such a cruel thing. It never showed mercy, never discriminated. It was always the life that was unfair. Paul laughed, or tried to. After all the struggles, scraping through hurdles, surviving to see next day and just when things started to look bright, this happens. A cruel joke indeed.

He was losing consciousness. These creatures had neared, hovering above him.

'It's okay Harry'

'I am sorry'

'I can die in peace now'

No…

Those memories were burning him. Her memories. He was dying. This was not the way he wanted to die. Not like this. Remembering the worst things in his last breath. What happened to the time he played in orphanage, with his friends? Or the time he sang with his band, the time he found his superpower, the time he danced with her in the rains..

Warmth flooded through his veins, fighting against the cold, against the despair. An electric flow ebbed within him, flowing in his hands. Suddenly, a misty substance erupted shielding him from those creatures.

 _Is that a snake!_

A giant snake. One he had never seen except in a weird dream. The snake was attacking those creatures, if that was possible. It seemed the snake was scaring them off. Paul felt safe. He would live another day. The strange happenings today had worn him off and consciousness was slipping from him. He heard some people running towards him, and he passed out.

* * *

'Are you sure, Tonks?'

'Damn sure'

'He doesn't have a wand!'

'I have no clue how he did it, Kingsley. But this boy is definitely not a muggle. I saw a bloody Patronus.'

'What shape was it?'

'I couldn't make out, it was weaker and hazy'

'Well let's take him to . If he is not a muggle as you say, we have to inform Hogwarts too. I will contact the Ministry and Dumbledore. You make an Auror report on the dementor activity and submit to DMLE.'

'Why do I always get the boring paperwork?'

* * *

Albus Dumbledore gulped a lemon drop as he sat in his office, pondering over the young lad he met today.

Paul Atreidis.

He chuckled as the name reminded vaguely of a character in a muggle novel. The boy is a wizard, no doubt. And an orphan too. But how he never got a Hogwarts letter puzzled him. The boy, Paul, for his part barely talked about his life during the entire conversation, regardless of how many times Dumbledore tried to probe. One thing was sure that he never left Britain. Thus he should have a received a letter. Was that glitch in Hogwarts magic? The Headmaster doubted the possibility. Perhaps he is a late bloomer. He should have to look into this matter.

Paul looked like a thirteen year old boy; skinny, blonde hair and a striking pair of brown eyes. The boy claimed he was sixteen and didn't budge until threatened to make him sit with seven year olds in the school. He had finally admitted having no idea of his birthdate and simply passed off the age that rolled to his tongue.

Dumbledore chuckled and yet felt a wave of sadness engulf him. Paul, by the looks of him, didn't have an easy childhood. Though the boy didn't say anything and looked an easy goer, Dumbledore knew.. He just knew. No one with magical abilities should be deprived to learn magic. That was what Hogwarts stood for, and children like these needed this school the most. For Hogwarts meant much more to them. More than a school, more than a magical castle… a home!

Perhaps it is not too late.

* * *

Remus Lupin rubbed his temples sitting on a black worn out chair in an old room of leaky cauldron. Paul again bombarded him with questions. Now, Remus is a patient teacher, very patient. But Paul was too curious and too smart for his own good. Scratch that, he is a prodigy.

Remus always believed muggleborns understood magic better than the ones raised in the magical world.

Simply because of the fact that they have an outsider perspective of magic. Muggleborns lived without magic in the early part of their lives. When introduced to the magical world, they had that morbid curiosity on how things work. Whereas people like him, who were raised here, never had the chance to appreciate the wonders.

Magic is a mundane part of our lives. We always took it for granted.

And Paul wasn't introduced to this world like other muggleborns. His first contact was those foul creatures. Remus shuddered at the thought of those soul suckers. Despite fighting off dementors, how he did it just added to his mystery, would have been a horrible experience. But Paul seemed rather adaptable to the magical world. His zeal towards everything that involved magic was astonishing. Strangely though, it reminded him of Lily in her Hogwarts days!

Ah, speaking of Lily, somehow Paul showed an uncanny resemblance to her. There weren't any obvious similarities. Paul had blonde hair, brown eyes and no freckles.

Yet, the way his brows furrowed while concentrating on a spell or the lopsided smile of his.. are so much like her.

Remus shook his head, coming out of his reverie. He is imagining farfetched things over trivial mannerisms.

'Mr. Lupin, I still don't understand.'

Remus raised himself from the seat and looked at the brown haired boy.

'What exactly don't you understand, Paul'

Paul's eyes narrowed. Clearly Remus was not listening. He huffed in irritation.

'That, how could boggarts sense our deepest fears?'

'Right. That's a good question'

Ah, there's that curiosity again. Remus smiled. The professor in him beamed at the lad.

The said boy wasn't amused.

'You see Paul, Boggarts when in fright, act like leeches. They feed on our magic. When you go near them, your magical energy would be present around. And boggarts have that special ability to create illusion of your greatest fear, from your magic.'

'Do my magic emulate my fears too?'

'Not only your fears. Everything is imbibed in your magic. From your identity to your personal traits, magical energy is a part of that, it's a part of you.'

'Okay, if it is so inherent in us, why do we need wands?'

'To channelize your magic', Remus smiled. 'You need a passage to let your magic flow from the body to your surroundings. That is where wands come to the picture. Although some people use their hands as the channelizer.'

'Wandless magic!' Paul mused.

'Right. But it would be too weak and to harness such feats, it requires great skill.'

'Could you do it?'

'No, I could manage some simple spells, but that's it.'

Remus waved his hand to light the candle on the brown table standing beside Paul. The look of astonishment on Paul was hilarious, brought a smirk on Remus' face.

'As interesting this conversation is, I have to leave now.'

Paul hesitated, 'why early today, Mr. Lupin?'

'I have some work. And Paul, I wouldn't be coming tomorrow. Professor Snape will be taking classes for the entire day.' Remus picked his coat from the side stand and reached the doorknob to exit the room of Leaky Cauldron.

'Mr. Lupin, may I ask something.'

Remus stopped midway, turned and gave a nod, dreading the question.

'Does your work today has something to do with full moon?'

There was a pause. 'Yes, Paul.' came Remus' hesitated reply.

'Cool.'

As Remus Lupin exited the leaky cauldron with a smile, walking along the sideways of Diagon alley, He had one thought crossing his mind.

That young lad is too smart for his own good.

* * *

Magic is awesome.

Sitting on the cold floor covered with a green carpet, Paul looked in awe at the polyjuice potion. It had taken him an entire month. And mind you, he was rather agitated for having to wait such a long time. Professor Snape had admonished him to be patient. Patience is the most important virtue to learn. The said man has kneeled beside him to review the potion. After what appeared since Bigbang, he gave a curt nod.

'Not bad for a first timer.'

Coming from Snape, the words literally meant 'Bloody excellent'.

Paul, for his part brushed aside the compliment, or the lack of it and started shooting his repertoire of questions.

'Professor, why does the potion's effect lasts for only an hour?'

Snape, having been used to this annoying brat for a month and half, has learnt tolerate his barrage of questions. Although, he must agree, the boy's queries were really insightful and challenging for a skilled potions master like him.

'Because, once you add a hair or nails of a person, the reaction starts and the effect we want is an intermediate phase. This phase lasts only for an hour and the chemical reaction would proceed to give a different result, which is of no significance for us'

'Ahh nice, could we introduce any catalyst to prolong this phase?'

Clearly, the lad had a good understanding of muggle chemistry.

'Unfortunately, to my knowledge, no. However you could take up research on this potion, Artreidis.'

'Maybe. Once I am in Hogwarts, I could give it a thought.'

Snape knew this boy could be a great potioneer. And after years of teaching dunderheads, he had finally got a genius. Of course he has seen some brilliant students in his teaching career. Yet, he never felt like grooming them. Paul though, after days of tutoring him personally, dare he admit it, had grown on him. The boy understood potions like a true potion master would and Snape wanted to apprentice the brat.

 _Potions is a science in need of an artist._

His mother used to say when she taught him in his childhood. Snape had aspired to be a potions master like her. After coming to Hogwarts, he dreamt of being a potions professor there.

Then, things changed. His interests changed. His aspirations changed. He changed too.

Now, he is the potions professor in Hogwarts since years. Yet, the zeal towards the subject he was so fond of, is nowhere there. However, from the past month, he has been warming up again. At first he felt silly, but as days went he could see the potential Paul had. And the changes he was having towards teaching.

Strangely enough, Snape, who had blasted Dumbledore for asking to teach a dunderhead in his holidays, was now looking forward to his sessions with the said boy sitting in front of him. Paul Artreidis.

He scoffed at the name. The orphaned boy had clearly chosen the name himself. Despite the happy go lucky persona he showcased, Snape knew the boy has his secrets. For a normal eyes, he could easily pass off as easy going, but Snape could tell the boy was always alert and on guard. His eyes shows much matureness for his age and Snape suspected he has a muggle gun always with him. Clearly, Paul didn't have a good childhood. And maybe for this reason too, he connected more with the lad.

* * *

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 **Author' notes:**

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